


Pick Me Up With Golden Hand

by ArtemisRae



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Spoilers for Season 3, WOW A GUN, and el has a proven history of sometimes making not great decisions, and now is not a great time for her, everyone is trying their best, ill show you three months later duffers, look sometimes teenagers do dumb things, post starcourt pre three months later, road trip fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 05:44:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20522906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemisRae/pseuds/ArtemisRae
Summary: I would like to reach out my handI may see you, I may tell you to run(on my way, on my way)You know what they say about the young(Send Me on My Way - Rusted Root)El does what she always does when she's overwhelmed - she runs. Max needs a break, and Jonathan's just trying his best.(Or: How the Wheeler siblings learn to be okay with their loves moving away.)





	Pick Me Up With Golden Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Here, have some fic I finished while cooped up with a hurricane over the weekend.
> 
> It's weird making adjustments to my characterization after season 3.

Max knew the instant she was in over her head.

It was when she and El were walking across the rest stop parking lot, heading towards the IHOP that was clearly the superior choice to McDonalds, judging by the fact that the majority of the people who had found themselves at the crossroads between Evansville and Louisville had also chosen pancakes over burgers.

The realization struck her like a bolt of lightening straight to the heart, and moving automatically, she reached out and caught El by the wrist, pulling her to a halt in the middle of handicapped parking. It was high noon, and Max could feel the heat of the baking pavement through the soles of her shoes.

"El,” she hissed, pulling her friend close to make sure no one overheard. The weight of her realization made it hard to keep her voice steady. "You don't have your powers anymore."

That was clearly not news to El. She didn’t react with the gravity that Max felt the revelation required; instead she just blinked at Max, waiting for her to make her point.

"What..." Max scrambled to form the proper question. Her mind was racing, making it hard to think around the growing sense of panic. "What if we were kidnapped? Or - or murdered?"

"Oh." El sounded relieved to have an answer to her question. She unzipped the army duffel and held open the sides so that Max could peer down into the bottom, where, glinting against the noonday sun, was the unmistakable shape of a gun.

Max stared, and understood for the first time since El had shown up at her house that morning exactly how a combination of grief, anger, teenage hormones and poor impulse control had led them here, and the undeniable fact that they were in deep shit.

El wasn't disturbed at all. She zipped the duffel back up and continued on towards IHOP. "Okay?"

"Yeah..." Slowly Max started to back away. "I gotta go to the bathroom first. Get us a table?"

"Okay," El repeated. She hadn't spoken a lot in the last month, and Max hadn't pressed her. Maybe she should have tried harder to get El to talk; maybe they wouldn’t be in this situation.

She watched as El pushed through the bright blue doors, and once Max was sure she wasn't looking, turned and made a beeline for the nearest payphone.

Mike was going to kill her.

***

Mike _was_ going to kill her, and it wasn't even for the reason that Max thought.

It was because he thought she was avoiding him by not answering the phone as he dialed her home line over and over, trying to reach El. It wouldn't have been the first time that Max had ignored his calls, and advised El to do the same.

He was desperate to talk to El, because he hadn't seen or heard from her since she'd stormed from his basement hours before.

It had been one of the first times they had been alone since everything had fallen apart at Starcourt Mall - no one particularly wanted El to be alone in the aftermath, and he couldn't blame them. How close they had come to losing her took his breath away.

They had been sitting quietly, El wrapped up in his arms. She had just told him that Joyce was leaving Hawkins, and that she wanted El to go with them. Mike knew already - Joyce and Jonathan had told him two days earlier, grudgingly swaying his opinion so that he could also convince El that this was for the best if she protested. The thought broke his heart - and the idea that he couldn't see her every day and make sure she was okay inspired low grade panic in his mind - but he understood why it was for the best.

El wasn't safe in Hawkins, and wouldn't be for quite a while if the government was investigating how the Russians had invaded. It would be better to have her four hours away in Illinois, a far but not impossible distance, than it would be to have her hauled away and locked up as a lab rat again if the government realized a missing asset was right under their nose.

She had been almost hysterical when she'd arrived at the Wheeler's - Joyce had called ahead and warned him she was heading his way, Jonathan dropping her off after she had become inconsolable at the Byers home. He'd prepared for her arrival to the best of his ability, throwing fresh blankets into the fort and prepping a stack of mixtapes and VHS movies to try and help her feel better.

All she had really wanted, however, was to curl up next to him, head in his lap and arms wrapped tightly around his waist. His shirt was wet from her tears, but they had slowed and eventually stopped as they sat together under the breeze from the ceiling fan, Mike brushing her hair back from her face and occasionally reminding her to breathe when her shoulders shuddered and trembled.

When she had calmed, she turned large exhausted eyes towards him. There was a clarity there that had been lost in the storm of her distress.

"There you are,” he breathed, craning his neck to look down at her. Her hair was sweaty, damp with her exertion and tears, and he stroked the curling strands away from her eyes.

She blinked up at him before murmuring, voice hoarse, "I don't want to go."

He didn't want her to go. The thought made him feel physically ill - but then, so did the idea of her being in danger if she stayed in Hawkins. "It'll be okay. We'll talk on the radio and on the phone, every day if you want."

El sat up, face red and tear streaked, and looked at him intently. She could do that, make him feel so exposed he might as well have been naked. He hadn't been exaggerating when he'd told Will at Halloween. _Eleven always understood_.

He only wished he could return the favor. It wasn't just because she was a girl - he truly had no idea what was going through her mind as her eyes traced over his face as if she were committing him to memory. Everything felt so fragile, with losing Hopper and her home, and he would do anything to make her feel better despite living in fear that he'd put his foot in his mouth.

It took him by total surprise when she launched herself at him, winding her arms around his neck and jerking forward so that the resulting collision was a sloppy disaster of a kiss. Instead of pulling away and laughing like they might have done just a few short weeks ago, El instead made a small desperate noise and readjusted, pulling him even harder against her and winding her fingers into the collar of his shirt.

It was the first time they had kissed in a month, since before (_themallandthemindflayerandBillyandHopper_) she had dumped him, and while he would have given _anything_ to have this back in another time and place there was a sinking pit in his stomach that was telling him that something was wrong.

He turned his head to try and stop her - “Wait, El -” - but instead of slowing down she instead pressed harder, sealing her mouth over his in a way that sent shivers right down to his toes.

It wasn’t until she lifted one of her legs to try and hitch it over his thighs, wanting to crawl into his lap, that he was able to stop her, hands on her shoulders preventing her from getting any closer to his lap. They had come close to this, but not quite this far, and Mike knew this wasn’t right. He was dismayed to see she was crying again.

“El, please.” Her eyes were wild, and he was a little frightened to realize he didn’t quite recognize her. “What are you doing?”

With a frustrated shriek she punched him in the shoulder, the heel of her hand shoving him back into the couch. He barely felt it, but as she flung herself away from him he still crossed his arms as if to ward off more blows. 

“Why won’t you kiss me?” she demanded shrilly, hands clenched into fists at her side. Mike mouthed for a response. Because they were still technically broken up? Because two minutes ago she’d been crying about leaving Hawkins? Because her father had died a month ago? Because she’d nearly died a month ago, and he’d had to watch?

“El.” He stood up, hands held in front of him like he was soothing an angry animal. Lacking anything better to say, he narrowed his focus back onto the reason she had come to his house in the first place: the move to Clearfield. “I know you’re upset and probably scared right now, but I promise Clearfield won’t be bad. It’ll probably be good for you to get away from all this ugliness in Hawkins, it’ll be a fresh start for you.”

El went strangely, alarmingly still. A curious look passed over her face, and she squinted at him as she thought about what his words. “That’s what Joyce said.”

“That’s because she’s right.” Mike held his arms open as if he could coax her back into them - but El was shaking her head and stepping backwards.

“No.” She crossed her arms tightly across her abdomen. “That’s what Joyce said. _Those words._”

Mike’s heart sank. He dropped his hands back to his sides. Despite every single fight or flight instinct begging him to flee, deescalate the situation, he held firm. _Don’t lie. Don’t lie._

Before he could figure out what to say, El spoke, her voice was hoarse. “You knew? Joyce told you?”

Yes, Joyce had come to Mike two days ago, before they’d talked to El, to make sure that he understood why they were moving her away, why it was in her best interest, and enlist his help so that El might understand as well. He knew why they had done it. If El had delivered the news crying in his arms, he would have been scrambling to find a way for her to stay. 

The tension ratcheted unbearably as she looked at him, betrayal in her eyes. There was nothing to do but admit it. “Yeah, I knew. She wants what’s best for you, and so do I.”

El’s face crumpled, but when he reached for her she dodged. “Don’t,” she ordered, and he immediately stilled as if she’d used her (no longer existent) powers on him. “Just. Stay.”

He hated to hear her speaking this way - that halted, unsure speech that had been the hallmark of 011, the girl he’d found in the rain - and he hated even more to have those words directed towards him. Mike was too used to being the one she ran to, not the one she ran from.

“I’m going.” She turned towards the basement door. He was torn between giving her the space she needed and reaching for her, giving in to the gnawing terror that he’d never see her again.

“Where?” he called, voice cracking as she flung open the door. “El, come on, I need you to be safe, even if you don’t want to stay here, let me go get Jonathan -”

“No,” she insisted. “You stay. Going to Max.”

His heart broke at the soft click of the basement door, and the way she had waved her hand with the intention of slamming it behind her. 

***

If Max hadn’t already been having a terrible day, she might have stopped well before it reached this point and thought critically about El and what she was doing. But she was in a foul mood when El neared the Hargrove house, having picked a fight with Lucas (that had done nothing to make her feel better) and watched Neil lose his mind when he’d learned that the junkyard that was currently holding Billy’s (wrecked) car was trying to charge them towing fees. 

So when El approached the house and asked if Max wanted to go with her, Max didn’t ask where this compulsion had come from, or what had triggered it.

She also didn’t ask any questions when they returned to what was left of the Hopper cabin, where El unearthed the ancient army green duffel and hefted it onto her shoulder without even looking to see what was in it. El had been crying in the ruins of her old home, and Max had cried too. She’d wanted to get El out of there as quickly as possible.

Max did pause when El had flagged down the semi and climbed into the cab without a single hesitation - she had been expecting to take the bus somewhere, and had been warned to never hitchhike - but El was moving so confidently and Max had decided that El’s powers could prevent anything _really_ bad from happening to them, which was just enough for Max to say_ screw it _and climb into the cab behind El.

When they’d gone past Indianapolis the first tendril of alarm had unravelled in Max’s mind, but it wasn’t until the truck stop, and IHOP, the realization that El’s powers were _gone_ and the sight of the gun, that Max had realized that what she had been envisioning - wandering around the city, shopping, ignoring their problems and blowing off the adults and friends who were only bringing them down, before slinking back to Hawkins to face any consequences - was not actually happening.

That was when the panic had set in.

As she dialed the number to the Wheeler house she vividly remembered her conversation with Lucas a few short weeks before, in a quiet moment just the two of them before they’d trapped Billy in the sauna.

_“Be careful with El,” he’d told her, and when Max had glared he’d help up two surrendering hands. “Just listen. It’s really good that you’re friends, but the mall was not a good idea. Hopper would go nuts if he found out you took her there. We were in very real danger because of her, and she could easily be put in danger if someone recognized her.”_

_“El can take care of herself,” Max had argued._

_“Yeah, she can.” Lucas had nodded in agreement. “That’s kind of the problem. She does a lot of things just because it doesn't occur to her that she shouldn’t, or can’t. Just remember that, okay?”_

The line rang, and Max thought about how no one had ever told El that while they, as devastated teenagers going through some real life trauma, were entitled to do stupid shit like sneak off to the mall or take the bus to the city to blow off steam for a day, she probably couldn't - _or shouldn’t_ \- hitchhike away from town in a semi with a gun packed in the bottom of her rucksack. 

“Stupid, stupid, _stupid_,” she berated herself, overlapping Mike’s frantic answer of “El? Max is that you? Are you with El?”

“Heeey Mike.” Her voice cracked. “Yeah it’s me. I’m with El. Um, is your sister home?”

“What?” Mike demanded. “What do you need Nancy for? Where are you? Is El okay? Jonathan is losing his mind, he has to take her home!”

“Good!” Max exclaimed. “Can he come pick us up?”

“Uh, I guess. Where are you that you can’t just bring her here?” The words got caught in Max’s throat, and when Mike sensed her unease he grew more panicked. “Max? Max tell me where you are.”

“Uh…” She twirled the end of her hair around her fingers nervously. “About an hour and a half south of Indianapolis?”

“You’re _what_?!” Mike shouted so loudly his voice was just static. “How did you get there?”

“Look, El came to me and asked me to go with her and I was pissed off so I said yes, I didn’t know what she was really thinking -” Now that the story was coming out she couldn’t stop it. “I thought we were just going to take the bus and screw around and - and just get the hell away from Hawkins for a little bit but she has a goddamn bag that Hopper obviously packed for her because there’s a gun in it and I don’t think we’re just screwing around anymore-”

“What? _What_?!” Mike’s voice had risen in a way that would have been hilarious in other circumstances. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I made a mistake!” Max hissed into the phone. “And you can yell at me all you want if you get Jonathan to come pick us up because I have no idea how to convince her to turn around.”

“Oh. Oh I will.” Max had faith Mike would keep that promise. “Look, just stay there, okay? We’ll come get you.”

“Thank you.” She pressed her forehead against the hot plastic of the phone booth and wondered who would strangle her first - Mike, for helping El get into this mess, or El, for calling in the calvary. 

She turned back to IHOP, where El was surely waiting. Exhaling a sharp breath, she wiped the dripping sweat off her forehead and started the long walk across the parking lot, praying she’d get lucky and get hit by a truck first.

***

"Okay," Nancy repeated herself, trying to get a handle on the situation. "Okay. Tell me again."

Jonathan was gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. Nancy knew why he was so upset - they hadn't told Joyce where they were going, because she would have gone ballistic at the news that El was not where she was supposed to be, which was in Hawkins at the Wheeler house. When Mike had burst in, babbling something about Max and El and a truck stop, he'd interrupted an already tense discussion between him and Nancy. In the ensuing scramble to get the car and go - because Mike was clearly panicking, and Nancy's fight or flight instinct was a hair trigger these days - Nancy wasn't sure she'd gotten the whole story.

"Why didn't you tell me El left?" Jonathan asked, staring hard at the road ahead. His jaw was clenched so tightly Nancy could see the muscle flexing. “You should have told me when she left!”

"She was upset! She didn't want to see me, and she told me she was just going to Max's house, and I thought they needed_ girl time_ or whatever," Mike said the phrase _girl time_ the same way someone might refer to a_ pile of dog shit_. 

"Mike." She turned around in her seat to glare at him, but he crossed his arms and stared back defiantly. Despite the irritation that was clear on his face, she could see the worry in his eyes, and knew that underneath it all he was terrified and just wanted to help El. "Whatever personal issues you have with Max can be worked out on your own time. What happened with El?"

Mike's face turned red. He looked down at his hands, clenched in his lap. "She was upset about moving. She figured out that I knew before Jonathan and Mrs. Byers told her, and she got mad at me."

The wrong part of that sentence got caught in her brain's filter:_ I knew before Jonathan and Mrs. Byers told her_. She turned on Jonathan. "When did you find out?"

"What?" Jonathan asked. Nancy fought to remain calm, but couldn't help the anger that was bubbling up, making her heart sick. How long had he kept this from her?

"When did you find out? When did you and your mom decide this?"

"Nancy, I don't know -" She cut him off.

"You knew enough to warn Mike at least two days ago!" Her voice rose. "And you didn't just make an impulse decision to pack up and leave, so how long have you been talking about this?"

"I - I don't know." Jonathan's face was turning red. "A couple weeks? Mom was thinking about it before - before everything that happened at the mall, but then with El, and, and Hopper -"

"_Weeks_?" Tears pricked at her eyes. "Weeks? And you didn’t tell me?"

"Nancy, I couldn't, it was a decision we had to make as a family -"

"So _Mike _is family now?" Even as she said it, she knew she was being unfair. Knowing a few days earlier would not have changed anything. She only would have known a little earlier that all the plans they had made for their senior year weren’t going to happen, and that her heart was breaking, and that the thought of facing Hawkins alone frightened her. Jonathan had been the first person to believe her about Barb, take her instincts seriously, and treat her like a peer instead of a hysterical teenager. It didn't seem fair that after everything they'd been through he was leaving - and it was even less fair that Mike had known before her.

"Nancy that's not what I said. We had to tell Mike before we told El, look at what she did by herself!" Jonathan gestured to the road, referring to the fact that she had taken off and they were currently racing after her. "Imagine what she would have done with Mike encouraging her!"

"_Excuse_ me?" Came Mike's incredulous voice from the backseat. "What does that even mean, I would never do anything to -"

Jonathan groaned and slapped at the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. "Yeah, Mike, you-"

"We know you love her," Nancy told her brother, trying not to sound scolding. They all knew the truth though - if El had gone to Mike and told him that she didn't want to move, Mike would have hidden her instantly. He'd done it successfully, and that had been before he'd understood the depths of his feelings for her. "And that means you'd do anything for her."

And Nancy had thought that Jonathan would do anything for _her_. She almost envied her brother, years younger than her and already so confident and self assured in his heart.

Mike heaved a huge sigh and flopped onto his side, covering his eyes with one elbow.

"Hey," Nancy admonished. "Seatbelt."

"Can't we go any faster?" Mike groaned.

"Are you paying for gas?" Jonathan countered, readjusting his grip on the wheel like he was trying to strangle it. Maybe he was imagining Mike's neck in its place. It would have been appropriate.

“I can’t believe you told Mike before me,” Nancy muttered, crossing her arms and looking out the window.

“Nancy!” Jonathan’s tone was undeniably frustrated and bordered on scolding. “Can we please focus on what’s important?”

“So I’m not important to you?” The words were out before she could even think about it.

She decided to take Jonathan’s muttered _oh my god_ as a victory.

***

El’s face fell when she saw him, which broke Mike’s heart. He was not used to being on the receiving end of that particular expression of dismay, but it was unmistakable even from across the parking lot. Max must have been watching for them, because they appeared at the doorway of IHOP within two minutes of Jonathan shutting off the car.

“Thank _god_.” If it was strange that El was upset at his presence, Max looked like she wanted to hug him, which only intensified Mike’s feeling of disorientation. He definitely wasn’t used to being on the other end of _that_ look. “Thank you so much for coming to get us.”

Mike held up his arms, wanting to wrap up El and never let her go. With her hair pulled into a frizzy ponytail and dark circles under her eyes she looked like an angry raccoon, and still Mike’s heart was racing. He couldn’t believe that soon he wouldn’t be able to see her every day.

Instead of stepping into the safe circle of his embrace, El stopped short, the grip on her canvas bag tightening as she glared at him. “I’m not going.”

Mike dropped his hands back to his sides. Nancy and Jonathan brushed past him. Jonathan clapped a hand on his shoulder. “We’re going to get coffee while you figure this out.”

It was a polite way of telling Mike that this was his problem. El didn’t even spare them a glance, refusing to redirect her defiant glare. Mike resisted the temptation to flip off their retreating backs as they walked towards the McDonalds. 

“Come on, El,” Max broke the silence, gesturing to the car. “Let’s just go home.”

“What home?” El snapped. Mike felt it like a physical punch. Her hands clenched and unclenched around the duffel’s strap. “Not going.”

He hated, _hated_ to hear her speech regress back into one and two word sentences. “Home with me, El,” Mike pleaded. “With us.”

“Not for long,” El muttered, tone betrayed. She crossed her arms tight against her chest as if physically warding him away. A bead of sweat ran down Mike’s neck. 

“_Please_, El,” Mike was not above begging. “What else are you going to do? You’re safe with us. You can’t go by yourself.”

“Not going.” El set her jaw. “I’ll find a new truck.”

“Find a new…” Mike mouthed the words to himself, mind racing. He didn’t want to ask her what she meant. He’d always prided himself on understanding what she was talking about, and she was angry with him. Asking her to repeat herself, forcefully reminding her that she was different, behind her peers, was not the way to win her back. 

Then it dawned on him. His mouth dropped open as he looked around the truck stop in disbelief, then rounded on Max. “You were _hitchhiking_? What is _wrong_ with you? Do they not have _stranger danger_ in California?”

“Don’t look at me -!” Max protested, overridden by El’s interjected, “No danger. Nice man.”

“Oh my god.” Mike covered his face with both hands. “El that was…” _Don’t say stupid. Don’t say stupid._ “Not safe.”

“Look,” Max broke in, sounding impatient. “Can you really blame her? Everything in Hawkins kind of sucks right now. I don’t really want to go back either.”

“You’re the one who called me!” Mike exploded, hands flailing.

“And I _said_ thank you,” Max pointed out. “But I also don’t want to be at a teenage girl at a truck stop with a gun of indeterminate origin.” She gave El a pointed look. 

Confusion briefly replaced her disgruntled expression as she mouthed Max’s words. “Indeterminate -?”

“She means she doesn’t know where you got the gun, or why you’re carrying it.” Mike told her. “And she’s really right, that’s not something you should just be carrying around, why do you have that thing?”

El took a step back from them. Mike stopped himself from stepping forward, making the gap smaller. He was worried about her taking off, but her leg injury from the Flayer was lingering, and they’d be able to catch up if she did try to make a run for it. “Got it from Hopper. For our go bag. For running.”

“From _danger_,” Mike stressed. He tried not to think about the danger she very well might have been running into, a small teenage girl hitchhiking with nothing but a gun and some cash. “This is not what he was thinking of El!”

“You don’t know!” she shouted. “You don’t talk to him!”

He clenched his fist and brought it to his mouth to prevent himself from yelling back. He wanted nothing more to match her energy - _strike that_, he wanted to throw a fit, bundle her up into the car and never let her out of his sight, wanted to tell her she was acting stupid and reckless and that she was putting herself in way more danger than she was running from - but this was not the time for pushing her. 

This was the same as finding her in the rain - he needed to coax her away, give her his coat, promise he’d take care of her and then make good on that promise.

If she’d let him.

Jonathan and Nancy returned to a standoff. El wouldn’t come closer to the car. Max was sitting on the hood, toying with her split ends. Mike was pacing. They were each carrying a single cup of coffee, and for a second Mike was irrationally angry at them - _why didn’t they ask if he wanted something?_ \- before clamping down on his temper once again. El was his top priority, and getting angry at Jonathan and Nancy would not help the situation.

“Are we ready?” Nancy asked, strolling to the passenger seat and opening the door. 

“Not going,” El said stubbornly, taking another step back from the car. This time Mike couldn’t help himself and took a step towards her. She noticed and stared him down, but didn’t flinch away or back any further.

“Let’s go, El,” Max called, hopping down from the hood. “I don’t want to go back to Hawkins, but it’s better than this.”

“You -” Whatever El started to say was interrupted when Jonathan leaned against the car door and asked, “You really don’t want to go back to Hawkins?”

“Of course not,” Max scoffed. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but it kind of sucks.”

“Yeah,” El echoed. “It sucks.”

Jonathan nodded, but the look on his face was thoughtful and not frustrated. “Okay. All right. Do you have cash, El?”

El reached into the duffel bag and pulled out an envelope, handing it to Jonathan. He thumbed through it so quickly that Mike wasn’t able to get a good look at how much there was, but Jonathan looked mildly impressed when he handed it back to El.

“What do you think about a compromise?” he asked the girls. “We don’t have to go home, not yet. We can do a little road trip, that might be good for clearing your head a little bit.”

“Road trip?” El asked. Mike saw the change in her body language - she was fully engaged now, didn’t appear to be moments from running away. 

“Yeah. There’s enough in there for a couple hotel rooms tonight. We’ll have to drive home tomorrow, but I know where we can go tonight.” Mike recognized the soft, gentle tone that Jonathan was using - it was the same he used with Will. “What do you think? A day on the road, listening to music, just us driving away from Hawkins?”

El bit her lip and nodded. Jonathan smiled. “Good. I’ll call Mom. Nance? Think your mom will freak if we don’t come home tonight?”

“Oh thank you!” Nancy’s tone was full of cheerful venom. “You’re actually bothering to ask my opinion this time.”

Max’s eyes went large, and she looked between Jonathan and Nancy. She turned her surprised face to Mike, who just shrugged. He wasn’t in the mood to break down their relationship problems. Not when he had his own.

Jonathan rubbed his eyes and opened his mouth to respond, but El spoke up first. “Yes. I want to. Let’s go.”

***

Hawkins was about four hours from Clearfield, Illinois, but with the detour South Nancy calculated that it would take them over five to reach city limits.

The music was playing slightly too loud, but she knew it was for the girls’ sake - the radio was tuned to the alt/pop station despite the fact that Jonathan wasn’t a fan. Despite this, he still tapped his palms on the steering wheel, keeping the beat with _Take On Me_.

El was by herself in the very back of the station wagon. She had relaxed noticeably as they drove and spread out, sunning herself in the back window like a large cat. Her eyes were closed, and it was the most peaceful Nancy had seen her since before Starcourt. 

She didn’t know if El making Mike and Max sit together in the backseat was punishment for Mike because she was mad at him, or punishment for Max for calling Jonathan to pick them up, but neither one seemed to mind the other’s company. Mike was watching El longingly, but Max was leaning her head against the window, watching the landscape whiz by. She, too, seemed noticeably relieved not to be heading back to Hawkins. 

Nancy couldn’t blame the girls. She didn’t particularly want to be in Hawkins either - downtown was a mess, and funerals for all the people who’d been possessed were a daily thing, casting a depressing pall over the town. Billy’s had been one of the first. She and Jonathan had gone, hugging Max even though she wouldn’t make eye contact with them. 

Sometimes her nightmares weren’t nightmares, sometimes it was simply Max asking, “_You’re going to kill him, aren’t you?_” and Nancy’s returned lie, “_This is just in case._” She hadn’t been the one to kill Billy Hargrove, _but she’d wanted to be_, wanted to be the one who ended the whole mess.

Every minute or so, she felt Jonathan’s gaze, just a flick of his eyes as he took them off the road for a moment to look at her. She couldn’t stand to look back at him. She felt sick at the knowledge that he was moving away. 

They had plans. They’d made promises - and more than that, she dreaded being alone at Hawkins High for her senior year. No Barb, no Steve, no Jonathan - no one who had seen the things that she’d seen, understood why she was sometimes impatient or prickly. 

Her senior year was supposed to be a triumph, and instead it was shaping up to be very lonely.

She was irrationally angry at Jonathan for taking that from her, for not even giving her a hint that all of their visions were about to be derailed. And she was even more angry that they were currently driving to Clearfield, as if Jonathan showing off his new non-Russian infested town was going to somehow make her feel better about the whole thing.

Closing her eyes, she leaned against the window and let the white noise of the car lull her into a doze. At first she tried to fight it, knowing that she had the map, that Jonathan might need her to navigate - and then she realized that Jonathan hadn’t asked her any questions since they’d reached I-65.

He already knew how to navigate to Clearfield, because he’d driven it before.

She stopped fighting. Tears leaked from behind her closed eyelids.

***

It was evening by the time they arrived to the town of Clearfield. Unlike Hawkins, which just had a metal sign from the department of transportation, Clearfield had a beautifully carved wooden sign that greeted visitors. Mike sat up straight, eager to see the town where El would be moving.

She hadn’t spoken to him the entire drive - hadn’t spoken to anyone, in fact. She’d spent most of their five hours on the road stretched out in the back of the station wagon, head pillowed on her duffel bag and dozing in the afternoon sun. It warmed his heart to see her sleeping - he knew she’d been having problems at night, still not quite comfortable in the Byers home.

He glanced back, and saw that she too was awake and sitting up, face pressed against the glass behind him. 

Clearfield - or what he could see of it - looked like a perfectly normal suburb. He had no idea why Joyce had picked this particular town, but it was larger than Hawkins, and close enough to Chicago for workers to commute, which meant opportunities for El to go shopping, and to the beach, and visit museums and aquariums. 

When he pointed that out to El, however, her expression did not change. It was blank and neutral, the face of someone who wanted all of the facts before they made their mind up about something. She didn’t even look at him.

They were driving through the business center along the main street of town, and Mike was impressed. They’d passed a huge mall just another exit down on the highway, but here in Clearfield there were still some small boutiques - Mike saw a dress shop, a craft store, and a salon along with the pharmacy and general store. There were kids riding their bikes up and down the sidewalk, and as they passed City Hall Mike saw a small billboard advertising free movies at the local park on Thursday nights during the summer.

Again, he pointed out the sign to El, who did nothing more than blink and nod. He hated to see her so disengaged, and wracked his brain, trying to figure out how to make her feel better.

_I need you to work with me_, Joyce had told him two days ago. _Not against us. For her safety. I know how you feel about her, and I don’t want to take that away from either one of you, but El deserves to be in a place that hasn’t hurt her. And - and I know she’s going to be upset, so I need you to help. She doesn’t know what she doesn’t know, so she’s not going to be able to imagine living anywhere else, so I need you to help do that for her. Not offer to hide her, or try to convince me to change my mind, or - or -”_

“_Okay. Okay, I promise,_” he’d agreed, cheeks burning. As much as he appreciated Joyce talking to him like an adult, it was incredibly embarrassing to feel so transparent, to understand that everyone in their lives knew that he would do anything that El asked of him.

“Okay,” he muttered out loud now. He was doing everything in his power to keep his promise. 

The streets turned residential, the asphalt shifting to brick, and sugar maple trees lining the streets. The houses were bigger closer to the center of town, shifting to split levels and ranch styles the further out they got. 

Jonathan pulled up in front of a solid brick ranch. A Coldwell Banker sign had a big sticker declaring SOLD slapped across it. The sticker was fresh and white, but the sign was weather beaten, as if it had been sitting out exposed to the elements for quite a while.

Mike scrambled out of the car to open the back of the station wagon for El, who slid out, steadying herself on her bad leg. He resisted the urge to help her - she’d made it clear that she was still mad at him. 

Max had no such qualms. Mike was jealous of how easily she linked elbows with El as they came to stand in front of the house.

“So this is it,” Jonathan was saying. “It definitely needs some work but we can do all of it. We can paint your room whatever color you want…”

El let go of Max and stepped forward to the front porch, looking up and around. Jonathan gave her space. “We’ll hang the swing out here. The real estate agent said that during the summer you can see the fireworks from the yard, so the whole neighborhood sets up lawn chairs in the street and watches together like a big block party.”

Again, Mike repressed the urge to lash out - the last thing El needed was a forceful reminder of how everything had gone wrong on the fourth of July - but El didn’t react to what he said. She just stood there and gazed up at the house.

“Can we see?” El asked.

“I don’t have a key.” Jonathan was apologetic. “But we can go in the back…”

Mike walked ahead of them to open the gate for El. It wasn’t a huge backyard, but there was an old oak tree that shaded most of it, and a large concrete pad that made up a small patio. He fell in line next to El, who was peering around, taking everything in. “This’ll be really nice El! We can have picnics out here under the tree - and we’ll get you a big umbrella so it’s not too hot in the summer. Or I can bring out our tent and we can camp out here when it’s nice, and look at the stars, or make a firepit and make s’mores -”

He cut himself off when El turned and finally made eye contact with him. There was so much in her expression, shining through her eyes, that it almost took his breath away. Devastation, resignation, and - yes, it was still there - anger, reflected clearly, unmistakably still simmering. He mouthed for words. All he wanted was to wrap her up in his arms and try to make everything okay for her, even if it was just for a little bit.

Wasn’t there anything that would make her feel better about this move? He already knew that there was nothing that would make him feel better about it - only the knowledge of El’s safety was the smallest consolation, and the only reason he thought he could bear it. 

How was he supposed to make her feel better about moving when he couldn’t even make himself feel better? 

***

The house wasn’t so bad, Nancy decided. Kind of cute, solidly built, and definitely an upgrade compared to their house back in Hawkins. 

Was it really an upgrade? Or did it just remind her of her own house at the end of the cul-de-sac, when the Byers’ current house wasn’t even close? She couldn’t be sure, but she had to admit that when she looked around and saw the bikes on the front porch, the flower beds overflowing with mulch, and the streetlamps with American flags that, if nothing else, this would be a better environment for El. Better to have her out in a real neighborhood, where more people can treat her like a normal kid instead of hiding her in the woods or cramming her into the Byers’ already crowded house, a house built around _boys_.

Having exhausted everything there was to see at the new house, Jonathan continued to show them around Clearfield. He took them to the high school, so El could see where she and Will would be going, and he took them to the local park, with a large path for people walking and jogging. He took them past the local cinema - while also telling El about the drive-in just one town over, and how he would take her and Will, and they could load the car up with sleeping bags and make popcorn at home and pick up a pizza and they could watch movies right there in the backseat of the car. 

The sky stayed clear as the sun set, and as the sound of crickets rose and the fireflies started flashing around them, Nancy could see the signs of life in the town that weren’t there in Hawkins. It was easy to see why Joyce had found it so refreshing, decided it was the perfect place for the Byers to start over.

Nancy hated it.

She hated it even more when Jonathan would subtly nudge her, and point out the places he wanted to take her - a Parisian cafe, the ice skating rink, the playhouse, all the quiet, intimate places that she and Jonathan could go on dates and grow together and make plans together - 

Except she would be four hours away in Hawkins, alone and shriveling like a tomato vine at the end of the season. 

Jonathan took them to dinner at a local diner, the seats cracked red vinyl scratching their legs. Max was distinctly cheered and El seemed bolstered, even if she wasn’t talking much - and not at all to Mike, who, in contrast to the girls, was positively miserable. Nancy had watched as he tried his hardest to encourage El to look forward to the move, impressed with some of his ideas to dress up her room, and gradually grown quiet as El failed completely to respond.

She and Mike picked at their burgers and fries while El and Max ate voraciously. That more than anything told Nancy that this had been a good idea - El’d had little to no appetite lately, she’d been watching Mike tear his hair out worrying about her, watched Joyce struggle to make things that would interest her, even stopped herself to pick up pizzas on the way to the Byers only for El to pick at the cheese.

There was cash in the go bag, which Jonathan used to pay for two rooms for them at the Days Inn. He hesitated outside of their rooms before handing El one of the keys.

“When we go home tomorrow,” he told them very seriously, “We can’t tell our parents that I let you sleep in the same room. If my mom asks, Nancy slept with you and Max, and Mike slept with me, okay?”

El’s face hardened - Nancy knew she hated lying - but Max grinned brightly and snatched the key out of El’s hands, shoving it into the lock. “Right, yes, promise, thanks.”

Nancy knew what Jonathan was doing. He was trying to treat them like peers. Trying to tell El that he wasn’t babysitting her, and trusted her not to run again. And really, none of them needed a babysitter, not with what they’d faced.

She fought the urge to protest. Letting Mike crash with Max and El meant that she would be alone with Jonathan, and she wasn’t sure she wanted that yet, if she was ready to talk about the new reality of their future while she was still trying to accept it.

But she also knew she had to soak in every moment she could with him while he was still in front of her.

She and Jonathan stood outside as El shut the door in their faces.

Jonathan sighed and closed his eyes. “Please still be here in the morning.”

***

Max lasted until 11 pm then she couldn’t stand it anymore.

She stood up from her seat on the end of the bed and reached for her shoes. “There’s a 7-11 across the parking lot. Want to get a slushie?”

“Yes,” El immediately jumped up. Mike mirrored her.

“You can’t just leave - we don’t know!” Max rolled her eyes, though El did hesitate. 

“It’s just across the parking lot Mike,” Max told him. “And I’m not sitting here all night listening to the two of you _not_ talk.”

The tension in the room was unbearable. They’d been sitting quietly for almost half an hour as El flipped through the channels of the television continuously - there was nothing on, but still she tried, and Max thought she might go insane.

The news that El was moving with the Byers was heavy on her heart. The thought of losing El so soon after becoming close to her - after watching her almost die, after watching Billy die, after watching Billy almost kill El - was nothing less than devastating. 

She couldn’t imagine how Mike felt. It had been painful to watch him attempt to be positive for El’s sake, try to help her imagine a life here. She wished she’d had someone do that for her when Neil had decided to move them to Hawkins - though there was a good chance that she’d have responded as well as El had, which was not at all.

“That’s not -” But Mike’s protest was overridden by El shoving a wad of cash into her front pocket and declaring, “Let’s go.”

The late summer night was hot and humid. The sky was cloudy, giving the moon an eerie glow. Most of the light was from the green and red lights from the lot across the street, and El made a beeline for the entrance, walking ahead of Max and Mike as they walked across the street.

Max thought about skipping ahead, linking elbows with El, but she could see from the way she was holding herself, her hunched shoulders and hands jammed in her pockets - she didn’t want company, and even if she did, Max wasn’t the one El wanted.

She glanced at Mike out of the corner of her eye. He looked totally miserable, scuffling a step behind Max and tossing nervous looks back at the motel over his shoulder. Noticing her looking, he leaned forward and said urgently, “If Jonathan or Nancy come to check on us -”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Max interrupted. Mike’s face went purple, and Max continued, “They’re probably duking it out themselves at the moment. Why do you think Jonathan let us room by ourselves? He wanted to be alone with Nancy.”

Mike made a face but didn’t argue. The blast of air conditioning was a relief when they pushed through the doors, but Max noticed the clerk’s unhappy face and suspicious eyes tracking them through the store - Max couldn’t blame him, three teenagers coming in late at night - and urged El to hurry as she stared blankly at the machines, not sure which ones to pick.

In the spirit of getting them out of there as quickly as possible, they bought one of each of the four flavors, and El cradled the cups close to her chest as Max grabbed some candy and chips and hustled them up to the register. The cashier was visibly relieved to see them exit.

El again walked ahead of them, planting herself at a picnic table tucked at the corner of the parking lot. Mike made an unhappy noise as he watched her. 

“Do you think she’s going to drink all four of those by herself, or do you think she’ll share with me?” Max asked, her tone faux casual.

“Who knows what she's thinking,” Mike muttered.

Max pulled up short. Mike noticed, and stopped, looking down at her. She looked back, wrestling with the words that had been at the forefront of her mind since this morning, when she’d been outside the IHOP with El - and if she was going to be honest with herself, she’d been mulling a version of this since the fifth of July and the aftermath of Starcourt, as she’d finally had time to process the events of that fateful holiday.

“Look, you’re not always wrong about El,” she finally offered. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, she deserves to do whatever she wants with your support but…”

Mike’s eyebrows rose. Max forged ahead.

“Look, you don’t get to set boundaries for her, got it? Especially because she listens to you, more than anyone else.” Max raised a finger, threatening. “And I’m never going to let you set boundaries for her, I’ll always fight you on it, because El deserves that but… maybe. _Maybe_…”

A smile was starting to twitch at the corners of Mike’s lips. Not happy, not smug - more disbelief at what Max was acknowledging. 

“Maybe she needs someone to help her _see_ boundaries,” Max admitted. “That they can exist. Because she kind of does just dive in head first, doesn’t she?”

“She’ll kill herself,” Mike said fervently, and Max sensed that this was an argument that Mike had been waiting to pick up yet again. “She’ll do it just because those assholes at the lab never gave her a break, or let her rest, and told her that when her nose bled or her head hurt that it was _good_, that it meant she was strong, and that’s bullshit, that’s such bullshit because now she thinks that if she’s not killing herself she’s not doing enough -”

Max held up her hands. “I get it, I get it. I got it when she decided to run away and grabbed a go bag with a gun and left town like it was a life or death situation. I had no idea that’s what she was thinking. I thought we were going to go to the city and screw around but -”

“But it’s never not been a life or death situation for El,” Mike filled in. “She doesn’t know the difference. That’s why she needs us.”

“Yes but,” Max bit her lip, searching for the right words. Across the parking lot, El was sitting under a street lamp, sipping at her four slushies. “But she still get to decide what the boundaries are. We can tell her they’re there, what’s healthy for her, but -”

“But I’m not going to let her hurt herself Max,” Mike said flatly. “And if you’re saying she gets to do that just because she wants to, then we’re just going to have to -”

“I’m not saying that!” Max snapped. Exhaling sharply, she pawed into their plastic grocery bag and ripped into a bag of M&Ms. “God, I’m trying to apologize and you’re being really annoying about it.”

“I know it’s hard to admit when you’re wrong,” Mike said in a condescending tone, clearly enjoying Max’s discomfort. Max fought the urge to throw a handful of M&Ms at him, then wondered why she was resisting and lobbed half the bag at him. Mike yelped, held up his arms defensively, but the smile was still there. 

Max wiped it away with a single statement: “And stop acting so fucking happy that she’s moving, dumbass.”

Mike stopped. Every muscle froze. His mouth dropped open. “Is _that_ why she’s not talking to me?”

“Oh my god.” Max stared at him. “I can’t believe I thought you might be smarter than Lucas. Let’s review.”

She held up a finger. “The Byers told El that they were moving and wanted her to move with them. She ran to the first person who she ever loved, the first person to ever support her, which is -” Max gestured, rolling her hands to encourage him to keep up.

“Me,” Mike said glumly.

“You!” Max agreed. “And instead of comforting her and telling her how much you’re going to miss her, all you’ve done is talk about how awesome Clearfield is going to be. She doesn’t give a shit about a fire pit in the backyard you asshole!”

“But - but Joyce said…” Mike covered his face with his hands. “Oh my god I _am_ a dumbass.”

“Correct.” Max glanced over at El, who had pulled off the lid to one of the slushies and was now mixing it with one of the other flavors. “I’m going back to the hotel. You go talk to her. Don’t come back until you _fix_ this.”

***

El was watching Max walk past her, back towards the motel, and didn’t notice Mike as he sat down next to her, slinging himself up onto the table and resting his feet on the bench. 

“Hey,” he said, not sure if he should expect any response at all. 

It would have been easy to ignore him, but El looked up through her eyelashes, shyly taking a sip of purple slushie. “Hey.”

He thought of her expression in the hospital waiting room, when things were just starting to go to hell. She’d already almost died once at that point, and he’d thought that was the thing he was going to have nightmares about - Billy holding her by the neck above his head. He’d had no clue how much worse it was all going to get.

“So…” He scuffed his toe, tried to figure out the best way to approach her. “So Clearfield seems nice, right?”

Immediately, El’s face fell. She looked away from him. “Yes.”

“I mean, god I wish I could be there on the first day of school and watch everyone lose their minds over you,” he continued. “You’re already the prettiest girl in Hawkins, you’re going to take Clearfield by storm.”

She bit her lip and looked down in that bashful way that meant that she was listening. It made it easier to talk - to bring up the visions and hopes that he’d spent the last twenty four hours shoving down deep, trying to talk himself out of them, hold the disappointment at bay. 

“You’re going to have so much fun. All the guys will be fighting to talk to you, or take you to dances or -” Her eyes turned to him, almost betrayed.

“But…” her voice wavered. “I don’t want_ all the guys_. I want to go to school with _you_.”

“I want to go to school with you too.” His throat was closing up, but he pushed through. “I thought about how everyone would see this… _really pretty_ new girl on the first day, and then you would be holding _my_ hand, and - and I was going to ask you to homecoming even though the football game is like, stupid dumb, it can still be fun, and how the whole party could sit outside and eat lunch together, and how I was going to get my drivers license in a few years and I could pick you up for school - did you know if you get a study hall after lunch they let you sign out for lunch? Nancy got to do that last year, her and Steve would go to the diner or McDonalds for lunch instead of that crappy cafeteria food.”

He was rambling and he knew it, but now that he was admitting all the secret wants in his heart it was hard to rein in again. El’s eyes were huge and captivated. 

It was strange, to be admitting all of this out loud. Ever since Hopper had grudgingly allowed him to start visiting El every day last January - and finally, Mike could admit, Hopper didn’t really allow it as much as Mike had essentially blackmailed him with El’s safety, determined to do whatever it would take to see her regardless of if he approved - he had been completely focused on being present with her, kissing, being wrapped up in their little safe cabin in the woods. 

He’d only ever kept these fantasies close to his heart, and now he was trying to give voice to the optimism he’d felt about high school ever since the Snowball. 

The optimism that had slowly been draining away as he’d come to terms with the fact that every plan he’d made for the upcoming years of his life were now invalid, that none of the things he’d wanted for El (and himself) were going to happen. There weren’t words for how unfair he thought it was that El was going to have to make the best of a bad situation yet again.

“But - hey, you know what? We can go to two homecomings now, you can come to the one in Hawkins, and I can come here to the one in Clearfield, and we can see each other over the holidays, and next summer you can live in our basement and spend the whole summer in Hawkins if you want, or I can -” It was a pale comparison to the rosy picture he’d been nurturing, but he could make it work. 

“Mike.” She was so good at that, derailing his train of thought with just a simple word. “I’m sorry. I wish it could be what you wanted.”

“El.” He reached for the cup in her hands, dropped it on the table so he could wrap up both of her cold hands in his. “It does not matter what I want. It really doesn’t. I’m going to miss you every single day, I’m going to count down every minute until I see you, but I’m going to be happy because I know you’ll be safe. And… probably happier here than you would be in Hawkins. If what Doctor Owens and Will’s mom are saying is true, there’s going to be Bad Men everywhere for the next few months. I’d rather have you in - in Japan than have you anywhere near Hawkins.”

“Japan?” Her eyebrows furrowed in that really adorable way that hurt his heart because he wanted to kiss the confusion right off of her face.

“Really far away,” he confirmed. “Further than Suzie in Utah. I wish you didn’t have to go. I really really wish you didn’t have to go. But we’ll talk every day, and we’ll see each other as much as we can and someday -”

Someday their lives wouldn’t be tied irrevocably to Hawkins. Someday they’d be adults, and capable of making their own choices, and they could choose to be together and there wouldn’t be anyone else who’d get an opinion in the matter.

He coughed. “We’ll figure it out. I promise El.”

Her grip on his hands tightened and she rose, shifting from the bench seat to sit next to him on the table properly. Her face was teary, devastated, but Mike was warmed to see that it was friendlier than it had been before he’d sat down. “Promise. I promise too.”

“Promise what?” He leaned his face close to hers, as if they were whispering secrets in each other’s ears.

“I promise to be safe,” El said simply. “To… make a fresh start.”

She was promising not to fight the move to Clearfield with the Byers - and the relief that coursed through Mike was almost a physical sensation. He practically trembled with it. 

He laughed, and pushed her hair behind her ear. “Just… promise not get any cooler, okay? You’re already too cool for me.”

***

They left for Hawkins early the next morning - Jonathan had to work that afternoon, and Nancy knew he wanted to give their respective parents enough time to mother them before he left for work. Nancy could understand. It would be okay, but there would still be consequences for disappearing overnight like that - maybe not from her own mother, but surely from Joyce, whos anxiety was at an all time high lately. They wouldn’t be grounded, nothing like that, but it definitely meant weeks of being questioned every time they went out, and wanting to know where El and Will were at any given moment.

The night before hadn’t been the worst of her life, nor the longest, but it certainly wasn’t pleasant. Jonathan had wanted to talk, wanted to lay it all out, wanted to know everything she thought about Clearfield and their future, but she had been too tired. She hadn’t wanted to talk at all.

He’d respected that. They’d sat in silence, and when Jonathan had dozed off with the light still on she hadn’t been able to help herself anymore. She’d crawled into the bed next to him, curling on her side and resting her forehead against his shoulder and tried to think of what she’d do when she didn’t have this option every night anymore. She had barely slept, instead watching him sleep and coming to the slow realization that it was hard to be angry with him.

She really wanted to be - wanted to punish him for making this decision without her - but that wouldn’t change the fact that he was leaving, and the more time she spent trying to make him regret his decision (that hadn’t really been a decision at all) the less time they had to enjoy being together.

Whatever had happened the night before, it looked like El was no longer upset with Mike. Max now commanded the back of the station wagon, stretched out and snoring softly, while Mike and El were huddled together in the middle row. They were also asleep, El’s head pillowed on Mike’s shoulder. She suspected the three of them had stayed up most of the night, the way they traditionally did at sleepovers.

Jonathan noticed her watching them. He took one hand off the steering wheel and gingerly took her hand. She let him.

“Please tell me you see now?” he asked, his voice little-boy earnest. “Why I have to do this for them?” 

She shrugged. If she tried to say anything she was going to cry. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I knew I couldn’t tell you for the same reason I knew we had to tell Mike first. If you asked me, I wouldn’t go. I’d figure it out. I - I even _tried_ to figure it out, when my mom first brought it up. Did a budget, looked at the classifieds, tried to see if I could afford to rent a room for our senior year.”

“But?” Nancy croaked.

“But they need this,” Jonathan said firmly. “And they’re going to need help. And maybe they could make it without me but -”

He took his eyes off the road for the briefest second, but it was all Nancy needed to see it all in his eyes. Jonathan had always been amazingly good at hiding his true self, content with his reputation as a loner at school. Nancy reminded herself what a privilege it was to be one of the few people who got to see what Jonathan tried to hide from others - his gentleness, self sacrifice, and how deeply he cared for his family.

“It’s a year Nancy. It’s a year to get them settled, and then me and you have the rest of our lives to do whatever we want. I’m willing to give them that. People still call Will Zombie Boy - and that’s, like, nothing compared to what they call my mom.”

Nancy bowed her head. While her own mother had never been anything but a friend to Joyce Byers, she wasn’t dumb enough to think that it wasn’t her mother’s friends who had helped solidify Joyce’s reputation as the town basketcase. 

Jonathan glanced in the rear view mirror. “She’s really asleep, right?”

Nancy turned around and watched El, studied her calm face and deep, even breathing. She was holding Mike’s hand but the grip was slack. “Yeah, she’s asleep.”

“There’s no way to explain El in Hawkins,” Jonathan said flatly, nervously looking in the mirror again. “None, Nancy. We talked about it. There’s no way to have El live in Hawkins like a normal kid without Hopper. My mom grew up in Hawkins. Everyone knows her family - there’s no way to have a distant relative come to live with us. And why would we adopt a kid out of the goodness of our heart? We already have no money. And Owens said the clean up is going to take months. We have to get her out of Hawkins. For her own safety.”

“Yeah,” Nancy said quietly, looking down at their entwined hands. “I get it. I do. You spend a year with your family in Clearfield, and your mom gets to be a nice single mom holding everyone together, and your brother never died, and now you have this nice, quiet sister…”

Jonathan’s shoulders actually slumped with relief. “You get it.”

“I do,” Nancy confirmed. She felt horribly selfish, particularly in light of Jonathan’s sacrifice. “I’m sorry. I was -”

“Nah,” Jonathan interrupted. “I knew - I know you. You don’t react well to not feeling heard. And I surprised you with this. It’s not fair to you either Nancy, I know it’s not. But it’s what they need and -”

“You’re a good son, Jonathan. And brother.” Nancy rubbed at her eyes, suddenly tired, exhausted. Would it ever get easy for them? _Any_ of them? Her or Jonathan or El or any of their party?

“I’d do it for you too, Nancy. In a heartbeat,” Jonathan said quietly, and Nancy felt tears well up in her eyes.

“Hopefully you’ll never need to,” she said quietly, and the silence that follows was calm, comforting, and enough to lull her to sleep.

***

Joyce met them at the Wheeler house. El felt terrible when she saw her haggard face and unwashed hair, pulled back into a messy ponytail. 

El could tell from the way her shoulders were shaking and tremble in her voice that she thought El was mad at her, but El didn’t have the words to explain that she wasn’t mad, she’d never been mad, especially not at Joyce. It was impossible to explain her feelings - they’ve either been a constant, nonstop whirlwind or she’s felt numb. There had been no in-between since Starcourt.

She wrapped her arms around El. “I’m so glad to see you. God.”

Pulling back, she stroked El’s hair, cupped her face with both hands. Her eyes were watery, and El felt her eyes tear up automatically in response. Joyce peered at her face. “Did it help? To see Clearfield?”

She still hated the entire concept. She missed Hopper, she missed her cabin, she missed the future that had been yanked away from her and Mike - but she trusted Joyce and her intentions.

Even more, she trusted Mike, and the fact that he had still tried to make the move appealing even though he was sad too meant everything.

“It’s nice,” El said simply, her voice wavering.


End file.
